


Window with a View

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Awkwardness, Catboy Lance, Dogboy Shiro, Flirting, Knotting, M/M, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-12 12:39:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7934869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shiro has lived next Lance's family, and directly across from Lance's bedroom, his entire life. He never much of that until, when home from college for the summer, he sees a certain kitten in a...provocative state. To make matters worse Lance sees him watching.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Windows

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a tumblr prompt (someone wanted catboy Lance and dogboy Shiro and knotting and I do like me some anthro porn) that has become a 'choose your own adventure' story. So the direction has been decided on by my tumblr followers. Who are thirsty little fucks, tbh.

Shiro had lived next to Lance’s family his entire life and, in spite of what might have been expected of cats and dogs, they got along well. Their parents were friends. He’d played with the older sisters, Lena and Teresa, growing up, helped babysit the last litter on occasion, and Lance…well he’d always been aware of Lance in one capacity or another. For years he’d thought of the younger kitten as an annoyance, a tag along to his sisters who couldn’t quite keep up and whined a lot. They’d had to deal with him and Shiro had done the best he could on that front.

He remembered him being skinny, chronically dirty faced, gap toothed, and often stumbling over his own feet or tail and needing someone (usually Shiro while Lena and Teresa rolled their eyes) to hang back to help him. He remembered big blue eyes under floppy brown hair, always looking up at him with such eagerness, and a hand that never failed to find its way into his when they walked down the street.

Then high school had come along for Shiro and the twins and Lance made his own friends in middle school, the younger sibling of the Holt’s across the street and a bearboy named Hunk, so they saw each other rarely. No more tagging along and that was fine by Shiro because who wanted a middle schooler following them around? Shiro never thought much about Lance, not really. Though he did on occasion find himself looking out of his window onto the yard next door to see Lance and his friends playing and laughing together. He wouldn’t say he missed Lance, exactly…but maybe he did.

There was a year of overlap, Shiro’s senior year and Lance’s freshman year, but they still didn’t associate much though he saw a lot of him. Lance was suddenly taller, towering over the other kids in his grade, gangly and awkward, with a mouth full of braces, and a frequently blushing face. Shiro came over to study and hang out and, more often than not, what he saw of the kitten was red cheeks and then his tail as he ran out of the room. When they did talk it was fine, nice even. Lance was smart, really smart and sure he talked a mile a minute and went off on a weird tangents but Shiro found he never minded much.

They had overlapping interests so Shiro left his comics and video games outside of Lance’s door when he’d finished them, listened to Lance’s opinions on what movies were looking good, sent him links to basically anything interesting and space themed, and while most of that happened without any actual contact Shiro felt like there was friendship there.

Different from his other friendships, because his other friends didn’t turn red and run away from him, but still friends.

College came. When he came home for summer holiday the first year Lance was gone, some sort of summer long space camp that he had to stay with his grandparents to attend. But the summer after his second year of college Shiro discovered he had a very serious Lance shaped problem.

His bedroom had always faced Lance’s but it wasn’t something he’d ever thought about before, other than sometimes yelling over for Lance to get one of his sisters. It just wasn’t a big deal. It had been that was as long as Lance had been alive, a part of his Shiro’s life like the space mural on his wall was part of it.

Familiar. Constant. Innocent.

Except suddenly there was nothing innocent about being able to see into Lance’s room.

His very first day back he’d gotten on late, spent a little time with his parents and then slunk off to bed. He’d been too tired to do much more than she’d his pants and open up the window to let on a breeze. That, opening the window, had been his first mistake. Because that had let him see that Lance’s window was wide open, curtains thrown wide, and the light from a lamp casting a warm yellow glow on everything. And there, right on front of the window, stripping off his clothes while moving to music Shiro couldn’t hear, had been Lance.

And Lance had changed.

He was even taller than he’d been the last time Shiro saw him, maybe Shiro’s height now, and still on the smaller side but when the teen’s shirt was pulled up to expose his chest here was muscle there. The shirt hit the floor and Lance stretched, blue-gray furred ears lying flat against his head as his hands reached for the ceiling. Muscles rippled under deep tan skin and then he was facing away, long fluffy tail swishing back and forth. He moved, body swaying and hips shaking, hands falling back down, and then he started taking off his pants. His jeans were pushed down with exaggerated slowness, skimming over narrow hips and a cute little ass and did Lance just not believe in underwear or…?

His legs were long, so long, and lean and it seemed to take forever for his pants to be low enough that he could step out of them.

Lance bent down, tail and ass swaying as he pulled off his socks and tossed them aside. Shiro’s mouth went dry and the part of his brain that was insisting it was wrong to watch his friends’ younger brother get naked got quiet. Probably because of a sudden rush of blood away from his brain and towards his dick.

Which. Was troublesome. And bad. And.

Lance started to turn towards him and, not sure what else he could do, Shiro all but threw himself on the ground, swearing softly as his knees struck the ground and his hand slapped against his computer chair. And stayed there for what seemed like forever until, finally, the glow of Lance’s lamp went out. He sat up cautiously, peeking over the windowsill and holding his breath.

Lance was there, leaning half out of his window, bare chested and grinning. Shiro froze, eyes widening. He hadn’t been busted this throughly since that time his mom walked in on him watching porn. 

Catboy porn actually, ironically, and oh, how horrifying had that been?

Roughly as horrifying as Lance catching him peeping like some kind of pervert. Lance’s sisters were going to kill him. His parents were going to find a way to resurrect him and kill him again. Everyone was going to know about this and

Was Lance waving at him? Was that a wink? 

Lance pulled the curtains shut, smiling wickedly, and Shiro was left watching the silhouette of Lance’s body through the curtain, tail lashing back and forth as he walked away and climbed onto his bed. 

It got worse from there.


	2. A Late Night Vistor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which my followers voted for Lance to come and visit Shiro at night, instead of an awkward family dinner. ;)

The next few days Lance’s curtains stayed closed and there was no sign of him at all. The lights went on and off at night but there was no dancing shadow to be seen through the curtains of grinning face peering out at him. Not that Shiro was looking or anything. Because he wasn’t. Because that would have been wrong. So very very wrong. He honestly wasn’t sure he could think of anything quite as bad as watching your childhood sort-of-friend getting naked.

And yes, Lance had seemed…not upset to find out he was being watched but Shiro was starting to wonder if maybe he’d just imagined that, what with the curtains being closed and Lance not coming over with Lena and Teresa to visit or trying to tag along when they came by to hang out.

In fact other than that very…enlightening look he’d gotten he hadn’t actually seen Lance at all, not even in passing.

Maybe he thought Shiro was a massive creeper and was avoiding him now. Which would have been pretty fucking fair in Shiro’s opinion. The fact that Lance hadn’t exposed him was more than enough to be grateful for so he was just keeping his mouth shut about it and not giving in to the urge to ask Lance’s sisters what he was up to. And the urge was very much there, a persistent curiosity every time he looked over the gate at the other house, but he knew when to leave well enough alone.

So, a week after flying home when he heard someone knocking on the kitchen door the last person he expected to find was Lance. Yet when he padded over to the door, yawning because it was 1am and he was deep in an Alien’s marathon, and pushed the curtain aside to look outside onto the deck it was Lance he saw.

Lance in a simple blue apron with the words ‘Spank the Chef’ and the image of a wooden spoon emblazoned over the chest, a big red ribbon around the waist, and red frilly edging. And not much else; Shiro could see the straps of a black sleeveless shirt but when he dared to let his eyes drift down all he saw was bare leg. It wasn’t as if Lance’s apron was exceptionally long, it stopped an inch or two above midthigh and that was being a bit generous.

He looked up again to find Lance looking at him, eyes catching the light from the overhead fixture and glowing, ears twitching and smile mischievous.

Shiro put the curtain back in place and rubbed at his eyes. Was this some sort of weird dream? Had he fallen asleep in his popcorn and was now about to have some weird sex dream that would, ultimately, make him feel like a terrible person in the morning? Because he was prepared to follow through with that, he just also wanted to be prepared for being unable to look at Teresa and Lena without wanting to crawl into a hole and die.

More than he already felt that way.

Light tapping and Lance calling his name made him peek outside again. Lance arched an eyebrow then looked down towards the doorknob meaningfully.

Shiro opened the door, frowning hard. “You know my parents are visiting my aunt for the weekend, right?”

“So?” Lance asked as he brushed past him, tail managing to brush over Shiro’s leg in the process. Shiro swallowed at the brief touch of silken fur against his skin, barely hearing the rest of Lance’s amused words. “I practically live here when you’re gone and I think you’re old enough to have a friend over, don’t you?”

Shiro pushed the door shut, flicking the lock, then turned to tell Lance…something. He forgot whatever it was, though it was probably very intelligent and appropriately scathing, when faced with Lance bent over the counter, flicking through his mother’s recipe box.

The mystery of whether or not Lance was wearing anything under his apron was solved. The answer was ‘yes, but not much’. Absolutely tiny gray cotton shorts were clinging to his ass and not quite fully covering it. Bent over like he was, elbows on the counter, long legs slightly spread, and ass pushed out, the shorts had ridden high enough for Shiro to see the bottom curve of cheeks.

His tail, fully and fluffy, spilled over the waistband of his shorts and was wagging back and forth rhythmically, slowly dragging over the back of his thighs and knees.

His tank top was tight and short, clinging to his back and leaving an inch or two of brown skin exposed. His skin was gleaming under the kitchen lights, sweat casting a faint sheen over his body. He shifted, one of his barefeet coming up to rub at his calf, muscles pulling and and flexing under his skin, then he was standing up straight, a notecard in hand.

He waved the card triumphantly. “Found it! You ready to make some cupcakes Shiro?”

Shiro blinked dumbly. “What?”

“Cupcakes.” Lance crouched to pick up an overflowing paper bag Shiro hadn’t noticed before and set it on the counter. He started pulling things out, eggs, flour sugar and more, and setting them down. “Cake, but in individual cup form, perfectly pre-portioned so there’s less guilt when you eat 3 or 4 at a time. Marbled ones, with sweet cream frosting I think. You can make the chocolate batter, I’ll make the golden.”

“…what?”

Lance tossed him a confused look over his shoulder then his brow furrowed in apparent concern. “Hey, are you okay?”

No.

“Yeah. I’m just…you’re here to bake? At 1am?”

“Mmhmm.” Lance hummed as his attention returned to what he was doing. “Science club has a bake sell and car wash tomorrow so I’m bringing cupcakes. I want them to be fresh for the morning so I thought I’d do them now.”

That seemed…pretty reasonable, sort of. Except. “Here?”

Lance squinted up at him. “Everyone at my house is asleep. It’s 1am, you know? And the recipe was here so…I figured no big deal, right? You don’t mind me hanging around do you?”

He somehow made an exaggerated flutter of his eyelashes and a nervous bite to his lip look…really good. Shiro coughed and rubbed at the back of his neck, wishing he could will the heat he could feel creeping up his neck away.

“What if I was asleep?” Lance’s eyebrows went up as he stared at him flatly, saying a mouthful without a word. “Okay, that’s a good point.”

Lance laughed quietly then beckoned him closer, a smile that could only be called coy quirking his lips. “C’mon, if you help me I’ll let you lick my spoon to taste my batter after.”

Shiro inhaled sharply then fell into a coughing fit as spit went down the wrong ways. Lance laughed again, louder this time, and in spite of the fact he was practically dying Shiro’s stomach still insisted on flopping at the sight of Lance’s eyes full of mirth, skin wrinkling around the edges, mouth open around his laughter.

When he’d finally caught his breath again Lance had already wiped tears from his eyes and was working on dragging bowls and pans out. Shiro watched him stretch up into the cupboard, eyes involuntarily falling to that patch of skin between the hem of his shirt and shorts then lower.

Again.

This was getting ridiculous.

He was a grown man, entirely too old to be getting flustered and tongue tied over some tiny shorts and a really…pretty and soft looking…fluffy tail.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Lance asked, suddenly in his space and peering at him with concern that may or may not have been genuine. “You’re all red.”

Shiro made a valiant attempt to swallow his tongue when Lance leaned in even more, so close their noses were practically touching and Shiro had no where to look except into Lance’s eyes. He could feel the warmth from his body simmering between them. Had Lance’s eyes always been so blue? Shiro hated to be cliche but they were like perfectly clear pools of water that he could drown in. Lance’s lips pursed in thought then he was reaching for Shiro, fingers skimming his cheek before touching his forehead. He turned his hand so the back was against his forehead.

“You’re sort of warm.” His voice dropped an octave, gained a husky note.

Lance was all but pressing his body against Shiro’s, the barest bit of space keeping them separate, and he couldn’t help but breathe the kitten in. First there was sweat and then whatever soap Lance used, a touch of salt mixed with something fresh and clean. Then something that invoked the taste of bitter chocolate, made him picture it melting over his tongue.

Blue eyes blinked slowly then lashed lowered so Shiro could only see only a hint of color. “You feeling sick?”


	3. Tail Touching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which my followers voted for Shiro to say he felt sick and head up to bed.

Shiro stared at Lance blankly, question barely registering to him; he was entirely too busy watching Lance’s mouth. Maybe Lance noticed because his lips quirked up briefly then, in the next moment, he was dragging his tongue over his plush lower lip and somehow was even further into his space.

“Shiro?” Lance called softly, breath warm and smelling faintly of mint as it brushed over Shiro’s mouth. “Maybe you should sit down?”

He shook his head, trying desperately to clear out the fog that had fallen over his brain. He opened his mouth, ready to tell Lance that he actually felt fine, then hesitated. As a general rule Shiro didn’t go around lying to people, and certainly not to friends, but…desperate times. It would be an easy out away from-his eyes involuntarily swept over Lance’s body again-whatever it was that was happening.

He wasn’t dumb and he was willing to lean towards ‘Lance is flirting with me’ but he wasn’t totally sure. They hadn’t talked in awhile so for all he knew Lance was this touchy-feely and ‘in your face’ with everyone. Short shorts and a little suggestiveness didn’t have to mean anything. And he hadn’t really said anything that suggestive, aside from offering to let Shiro taste his batter. Which. Was maybe not that bad at all. Maybe Shiro was making it that way because his brain was already in the fucking gutter and refused to be pulled free.

Distance would help him get his head back and figure out what was going on.

And force him to stop staring at Lance’s ass.

And eliminate the risk of Lance noticing he was about halfway to an erection and oh so tempted to lean in and inhale that bitter chocolate scent again. Or, as he watched Lance bite his bottom lip, something even worse that he wouldn’t be able to take back.

“Yeah. I’m not feeling so great.” He said, forcing himself to look elsewhere. Lance’s feet, as it turned out, and the dark orange paint over his nails. Then up to Lance’s legs which inevitably brought him back to Lance’s waist. He was almost positive that his fingers would touch if he wrapped his hands around it. “I think we-I! I should head up to bed! I.”

Fuck him. Shiro’s ears laid back against his skull in horror; what the hell was he saying? What was he doing? He hadn’t been this damn awkward ever, not even when he’d had his first crush back in middle school and he’d tried to subtly sniff them and touch their tail. Which was not the sort of thing he’d do as reasonable adult who understood that you didn’t just go around touching a person’s tail without permission. It was an intimate gesture, something reserved for lovers and very close friends.

And that for dogs, and some others (cats for one), sniffing someone was basically proclaiming very loudly that you wanted to bang them.

Lance blinked up at him, lips parting slightly as his eyes darkened, then he turned away, laughing again. “That sounds like a great idea. Let’s get you to bed.”

Long fingers wrapped around his wrist and he found himself being tugged from the kitchen and towards the stairs It took him a few seconds, during which he nimbly followed Lance’s lead.

Get him…he couldn’t possibly be…he wasn’t serious. Was he?

“Lance.” He stopped moving, held firm when the other tried to keep moving. “What are you doing?”

Lance fixed a bewildered look on him, making it very clear that he thought Shiro was the one being strange here. “Taking you to bed. I thought that was pretty obvious.”

Shiro bit his lip, stomach flopping and mind conjuring some not so innocent imagery in response to Lance’s words. He was without words for a second, standing on the stairs looking up at Lance and into his very very blue eyes and faced with his soft half smile.

“I’m not sure-”

“You don’t feel good, right?” Lance interrupted, yanking on his wrist again. “So you should get some rest and I’m going to make sure you do.”

Shiro’s mouth moved without his brains permission, words wry and faintly alarmed. “I’m not sure how much rest-”

Lance frowned slightly. “Yeah, I know, you don’t sleep. But after I get you tucked in I’ll make that tea your mom always makes for me when I can’t sleep-”

“Tucked in?”

“And you’ll be out like a light.” Lance finished, grinning brightly. “And yes. You remember when I’d stay the night with Lena and Teresa? And we were supposed to crash downstairs in the living room?”

They were moving again; Shiro wasn’t sure if it was surprise or relief from hearing that Lance, it seemed, just wanted to tuck him in that got him walking. Or maybe the warmth and fondness in Lance’s voice was throwing him off.

“But you’d let me sneak up to your room and you’d let me have one of your stuffed animals and tuck me in if I got scared of being away from home.” Lance shook his head, snorting softly, and his thumb swept over Shiro’s wrist lightly as his hand shifted so their fingers were tangled together. “Terrified because I was a whole 30 feet from home.”

This was…this was easier. The tension Shiro had been carrying around since Lance had walked into his house (since he’d seen Lance naked, honestly) lifted some.

“You were six and your sisters were always making us watch the most scary movies they could sneak over.” Shiro smiled at the memory. That was when Lance had still been their constant shadow and Shiro had cared more about keeping him happy, and this their parents happy, while Lena and Teresa just wanted him to go away.

He’d always been torn. Lance could be annoying but he’d never been all that bad. Just a little excitable and prone to grabbing onto Shiro and not letting go for hours at a time. He’d gotten used to it, eventually.

Of course, he thought as he looked down at their joined hands, that had been eleven years ago and things had been very different.

Lance’s tail flicked to the side and Shiro was looking at where it met Lance’s skin, just above the curve of his ass and those itty bitty short. So different.

Lance turned into his room, still holding his hand, and beelined straight for his bed. Then stopped, head turning towards the window. Shiro looked too, heart jumping up into his throat. There was Lance’s room, silent and dark but nonetheless visible. Like it had always been but also nothing like it had always been.

“Lance-”

His hand was dropped and, without a word, Lance was leaning over his bed and yanking down the sheets. Then the kitten looked back at him and made a ‘go ahead’ motion. Shiro almost protested, he did not need tucked in, but a glance at the window made him think better of it. He figured indulging a harmless thing like this was the least he could do.

The sheets were pulled up over him once he was in bed and settled, smoothed down around him then over him. Lance’s hands, with light touches that were barely there, brushed over his chest and shoulders through the sheet then drifted further down over his stomach. Shiro breathed in, stomach tightening anxiously and toes curling in something like anticipation.

Lance straightened up and turned away. “I’ll bring you that tea if you want.”

“No need. You can work on your cupcakes.”

“My…right. Cupcakes.” Lance’s body seemed to go rigid for a moment then he waved over his shoulder and walked out, door clicking shut softly behind him.

Shiro breathed for what felt like the first time since he’d answered the door. He was even more confused than he’d been before when he’d been sure Lance was flirting with him. He gone from teasing and coy to soft and nostalgic just like that.

What was Shiro supposed to make of that?

He rolled over onto his side, arms wrapping around his pillow. Next summer he was staying at school. This was just way too much. The only thing he was even remotely sure of was that there was no way he was going to sleep with Lance wandering around downstairs and that he absolutely was not going to make a move on his next door neighbor.

—

Shiro jerked awake, brain still foggy with sleep and tongue dry, blinking into the darkness. Something warm and solid was draped over his back and something soft was brushing against his tail.

The air smelled like chocolate.

He’d fallen asleep? When? The last thing he remembered was listening to Lance moving around in the kitchen along with soft strains of music. He hadn’t been able to identify what it was but he recalled it being smooth and dark, soothing almost and

Something, someone, shifted next to him and warm breath puffed against the back of his neck. He went still then slowly lifted his head to turn it and look. His throat was tight and his heart was suddenly pounding against his ribcage. He knew who it had to be and yet a shock still went through him at the sight of Lance’s face on his pillow. His hair was mussed, falling over his face, and his angular features were softened by sleep.

What. The. Fuck?

“Lance?!”

Lance mumbled quietly, shifted again then there was a leg hiking up across his hips, curling around him, to go with the arm sprawled over his back. He tried to wiggle away, brain screaming a steady stream of ‘what? Why? What is?’ at him.

“Go ‘sleep Shiro.” Lance yawned the words, eyes opening a crack. “Move less.”

Shiro sputtered then, incredulous, hissed. “What are you doing in my bed?”

“Sleeping.” Was the bland reply. “We’ve slept in the same bed before.”

“When you were six and I was nine!” When it hadn’t been a big deal and Shiro hadn’t cared that he woke up with Lance grafted to his side and things like ‘oh god he smells amazing’ and ‘he’s so warm and close and his tail is touching mine’ and ‘please, penis, now is not the time to wake up’ hadn’t been his three most prevalent thoughts.

Lance pouted, actually pouted, at him as his eyes, glowing and reflective in the dark, opened wider. It was somehow adorable while managing to make Shiro’s skin prickle with heat. “And? So what? Is something different now?”

Shiro’s mouth dropped open, but it was hard to say if it was from the question of the way Lance’s tail twitched against his own curved one, trailing what felt like a hundred soft and silky touches against him. That was. So. Not appropriate.

“What’re you doing?” He hated how breathless and strained he sounded, high pitched like he hadn’t heard himself be in years.

“Don’t want to wake anyone up sneaking back in with all that stuff so I thought I’d stay here.” Fingers touched his back; he could feel claws grazing his shirt and wondered idly why Lance’s were out.

“We have a couch?” It was a nice couch. Shiro had spent many a movie marathon or video game binge on that couch. 

“I saw you the other night. Watching me.” Lance cuddled closer as he spoke, nose rubbing against his neck, and his words were toneless, giving away nothing. Shiro couldn’t tell if he was angry or disgusted but he hastened to apologize anyway.

Lance listened, head cocked to the side and body very still, as he sputtered out how he shouldn’t have been watching and didn’t even have a good excuse because he could have, should have, looked away but he had never ever done it before and that he was sorry and understood if he had told or was freaked out and-

“It’s fine. I didn’t tell anyone.” Lance whispered against his skin. “Let’s me crash, no one else has to know, and we’ll call it almost even.”

Shiro was pretty sure that was blackmail. And that blackmail was wrong, especially when he was the one on the hook, but Lance was watching him with those bright eyes and their tails were curling tighter together and it was hard to think clearly.

He was absolutely being played, that much he was sure about. 

“So? Sleepover?” He could feel the other’s smile against his skin.


	4. Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro caves and touches things he shouldn't touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which the vote was: Let Lance stay the night.

Shiro sighed and rolled onto his side so he was facing Lance fully before letting out an annoyed huff that he didn’t really feel. Lance’s tail slipped away from his own, swept over his skin lightly, and the sharp tips on his nails scratched lightly over Shiro’s skin. He shivered, the touch almost a tease, then batted Lance’s hands away.

“Stop that.” Lance’s lips twitched upwards. Shiro rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a brat.”

Lance snickered then winked conspiratorially. “I’ll have you know there are a lot of people who like it when I’m bratty.”

Shiro wasn’t going to ask. He wasn’t even going to think about it. Not with Lance in the bed with him or- no, not at all. He needed to pull himself together and put Lance solidly back in the ‘never think dirty thoughts about’ category, which would be much easier if Lance was literally anywhere else.

All of this, whatever game it was Lance was playing, was already too much and had gone too far.

He knew what he needed to do was tell Lance to leave or sleep on the couch, or sleep on the couch himself. Anything else was…not right. Either he would be giving Lance the wrong idea or, and this easy worse, he’d be giving Lance the right general idea but not…right.

“C’mon.” Lance sing-songed. “Let me stay. Please?”

The no was on the tip of his tongue, ready to pass his lips, but he couldn’t quite get it out. Instead he stared into Lance’s gleaming eyes and felt crushed by the openly hopeful look on his face. Nothing good was going to come from letting Lance stay the night in his bed but. But.

He’d never been all that good at telling Lance not to do things or not to come along or even flat out no when they’d been growing up, having never wanted to deal with the guilt that came with making Lance sad or upsetting him, and it looked like he wasn’t any better at it now.

“You shouldn’t.” It didn’t sound the least bit like he meant it. Shiro wasn’t sure where his resolve and ‘famous’ ability to command others had gone, or if Lance was making it crumble with proximity and his scent and warmth or if he really didn’t want to deal with telling Lance no.

Lance hummed then leaned in to rub his nose against Shiro’s chin. His clawed fingertips found their way under the hem of Shiro’s t-shirt but then sat there, resting against his skin but not trying to move any further.

“Why not? It’s just a sleepover, like when we were little.” He murmured, voice playful but also somehow serious. “Worried I’ll do something bad?”

Shiro’s mouth went dry and words failed him yet again. What had happened to the gap toothed, silly boy he’d known before? When had Lance grown into…this? And why was he actually seriously entertaining the idea of letting Lance stay? Why couldn’t he just say no?

“A little.” He didn’t mind admitting it though when Lance smiled again, all teeth and delight, he wished he hadn’t. He looked far too pleased with himself.

“I’ll be good.” Lance said, hands snaking away from Shiro. “And I’ll stay on my side of the bed if that helps.”

It wasn’t as if Shiro’s bed was so big that there were really sides but…well, that was something wasn’t it? There was probably enough room to not be touching and if Lance said he’d stay away Shiro would take him at his word. And if he didn’t keep it Shiro would kick him out of the room guilt free.

“Fine.” He tried to keep his voice stern. “But only because it’s late and you’re already here.” Lance’s smirk said he didn’t buy it but Shiro was going to be sticking by that anyway. “On your side of the bed, and then we’re even, right?”

“Almost even.” Lance corrected, laughter thick in his voice. “One more thing and then we’re actually even.”

Shiro made a face at Lance; he couldn’t believe he was bartering to not have Lance tell everyone that he was some sort of peeping dog. His own fault, yeah, but it still felt very very wrong. And he had a feeling whatever Lance wanted was going to be something…inappropriate. Shiro was trying to be a decent person here, aside from the staring while Lance danced naked part, and Lance making it incredibly hard to stick to that. With his stupid wonderful looking legs and cute tail and god, even the way he was breathing, puffs of air fanning against Shiro’s skin.

“What do you want?”

Lance smiled broadly then, lightening fast, scrambled so he was even more in Shiro’s space, leg tighter around his waist pressed so closely to him that there was nothing left to the imagination. Shiro swallowed thickly, willing himself to just stay calm and not let anything embarrassing ‘pop up’, and arched an eyebrow.

“This is not staying on your side.”

“Tomorrow.” Lance made the word a promise and Shiro wasn’t sure if he was dreading finding out what Lance wanted or…no. Dreading it.

He was dreading it.

He rolled over to face the wall, squirming free of Lance’s grasp, and muttered a terse ‘goodnight.’ Lance echoed him and Shiro could feel him rolling over as well.

It was going to be a long night.

—

Shiro came awake slowly, mind wrapped up in a warm blanket and thoughts sluggish. He was pressed against someone, someone who smelled very nice and was warm and fit against him just right, with his arms around them. Had he gone home with someone? That wasn’t something that happened often, school kept him busy, but he wasn’t totally immune to the interest of others all the time.

He rocked his hips forward a little, humming at the soft mewl his partner let out as he rubbing against their backside, a small soft curve pushing against his crotch, and pushing his hand under the tight fabric of the shirt. Their skin was soft but their stomach was flat and toned with a light patch of hair trailing from their bellybutton down. They gasped, arched against him, then pushed back into his movements. Their tail was trapped between them, curled up and twitching as it attempted to move away.

He rutted against them again, erection straining against his sweatpants, rumbling approvingly when they moved with him. His legs were tangled with theirs so his thigh was between their legs; he pushed up, felt that they were hard as well, and used his other hand to wrap around a narrow hip bone and pull them to ride against his thigh.

He could understand, even without being fully awake, why this person had been worth going home with. Just a few light touches and they were responding so nicely, letting out soft shuddering sighs as he swept his fingers over their skin, let them drift up slowly to touch nipples that were already stiff when he got to them. He pushed his mouth against the curve of their neck, pinched their nipple, and rolled his hips.

“Ah! S-Shiro, y-you gotta-fuck!” They yelped, shuddering against him when Shiro bite down where shoulder met neck. “Shiro! Wait!”

He…knew that voice.

He jerked back and sat up, eyes opening wide, as his brain finally caught up and everything came flooding back. He was at home, not back at school, and he hadn’t gone home with someone. Rather someone-Lance- had crawled into bed with him.

And was now lying on his bed, red faced, ears straight up and twitching minutely, and breathing hard, watching him with glazed blue eyes. His shirt had ridden high, pushed up by Shiro, and his shorts were riding low with a visible tent in the front. His neck was wet and the outline of Shiro’s teeth was obvious in his already reddening skin.

He looked like…well, like someone had been enthusiastically grinding against and groping him.

Lance pushed himself up onto his elbows, blinking up at him hazily, and opened his mouth. To say what Shiro would never know because a shrill chime made them both jump. Lance craned his neck and Shiro followed his gaze. On Shiro’s desk, on the other side of the room, was a cell phone; the screen was lit up. Another chime and Lance jumped up, scurrying over to grab it.

Shiro couldn’t help but notice that his tail was puffed up, fur standing straight up in a way that made it look almost twice as big as it normally did.

He pulled his gaze away and dropped his head into his hands, barely listening as Lance talked quietly to someone.

He was going to hell. He’d given Lance all that crap, made him promise to stay on ‘his side of the bed’, basically said he didn’t trust him, and then he’d molested him. He was terrible.

“I’ve gotta go.” Lance announced a moment later. Shiro nodded but didn’t look up. “Are you…do you think you’ll come to the fundraiser? I’m stuck there all day, so we can fund that space camp trip next year, but. It’d be nice. If you came. And maybe we could go to dinner after?”

“I’m not sure-”

“You don’t have to, but Pidge, Hunk, and Keith will be there, for their clubs, and they’d probably like it if you came around. Plus little old ladies love you so it’ll be good for sales, right?” Lance added hastily, cutting him off. “But. Um. That other thing I wanted?”

Shiro peeked past his fingers when he felt the bed dip under Lance’s weight. His hands were pulled away with little fight on his part, leaving them staring at each other. Lance licked his lips then took a deep breath and leaned closer, hands curling tight around Shiro’s wrists.

Shiro’s heart jumped.

Lance’s lips touched his, slow and hesitant. It was a press of lips, Lance’s wet against his chapped ones, then a head tilt made them slide together, fit just so, as Lance shifted closer to settle between his legs. It was a few seconds, long painfully sweet seconds that stretched on and on, then Lance pulled back. He hadn’t kissed back, hadn’t moved at all, but his lips were tingling and his stomach had seen fit to twist itself into a knot. If his back hadn’t been pressed against the wall his tail might have been wagging.

“Um. Okay.” Lance said; his face was dark red, his mouth pinched, and his shoulders hunching as he slipped back off the bed. “Right. Sorry. I’m going to go be embarrassed somewhere else now, because you look like someone just told you your goldfish died.”

“Right.” Shiro said, voice faint. “Bye.”

Lance all but ran from his room, leaving Shiro staring blankly into space, very deliberately not thinking about anything at all. Certainly not the feel of Lance’s mouth on his or how well he had fit against his body.

He got up, eyes drifting over to the window to peer into Lance’s empty room, then shook his head. He needed a shower. A long cold shower. And maybe a drink. Or 5.

Which was exactly what he was going to do. While not thinking about Lance or the sad look on his face before he’d left.

He picked up his phone and tapped his way to where Lance’s number was in his contacts. Another look across to the other’s room and he went up one, to Keith, and hastily typed out a message before he could second guess himself. 

_Me: The fundraiser today is at the school?_

_Keith: Yeah. You coming?_

_Me: Maybe. Lance asked me to. You know where he’s gonna be?_

 


	5. Soaking Wet

_Keith: Bake sale. You know how he is about water._

_Keith: Why not ask him yourself?_

Shiro cringed; he didn’t think the truth, which was ‘I woke up humping Lance, he kissed me, and then ran off because I sat there like an idiot’, was going to be something Keith appreciated. To the contrary he expected Keith, his best friend since middle school, to freak out. Or at least as much as Keith ever freaked out about anything, which meant he’d get very quiet and start making ‘emotionally constipated’ faces.  

_Me: I think he’s busy getting his cupcakes ready_

_Keith: Right. See you there?_

_Me: Probably._

He set his phone aside, letting out a breath. A bake sale would be safe; if they were in public things wouldn’t be able to get too awkward and he could apologize for how they’d woken up, with his hands places they shouldn’t have been. And for not giving any real response to that kiss, something he imagined was worse for Lance than if he’d just outright rejected him. Which he…well, he was going to explain things. Apologize for giving Lance the wrong impression, though he wasn’t sure if he meant the groping or not responding to the kiss, and set everything right between the two of them.

As right as he could.

He had no idea what ‘right’ was but he’d figure it out along the way.

—

“That is not the bake sale table.” Shiro said slowly, fighting to keep his voice steady and not let the shock, or flush of arousal, he was feeling sneak in.

He’d spent a few hours finishing his movie marathon from the night before, talking to his parents, and pointedly not looking towards the McClain house before leaving for the fundraiser. He’d driven to the school and met Keith, who was coming off a lunch break, at the front. It had been Keith’s idea to drive around to the side parking lot to get the car washed; he was more than willing to help his old club out. Aside from that, Keith had said the Holts, Matt helping out as his last club president act, were there, working the car wash, and he hadn’t had time to visit either of them since he’d gotten home.

He’d figured he’d get in line, get the car washed while talking to Pidge and Matt, then headed around to the gym to talk to Lance and Hunk and buy a bunch of baked goods. His parents were due home the next day and he knew for a fact his mother would appreciate him loading up on stuff to support Lance’s club. If she was around she’d probably by out the entire sale and direct everyone she knew there to get their cars washed.

Not that they seemed to need any help in that regard. There were a few cars ahead of his, each swarmed by teens  who must have joined up after his graduation because he didn’t recognize any of them. He parked and followed Keith around to the table where Pidge was sitting with the lockbox and a clipboard (decidedly dry in her shorts and t-shirt) , watching over the proceedings with a very critical eye, mid shout for someone to ‘get that spot they missed’ when she saw them. She’d hopped up to hug him while explaining that Matt had just ducked out for a minute to grab something to eat but would be back soon.

Shiro nodded, eyes once again sweeping over the parking lot when he’d spotted Lance coming out from around a minivan, laughing loudly as he narrowly avoided having a sponge hit him in the face.

The first thing Shiro noticed was his face. The look on his face, open and happy and eyes bright with mirth, mixed with his laughter was enough to make Shiro’s heart flutter. It also made him feel a bit stupid for being worried about hurting Lance when clearly he was doing just fine in spite of what had happened that morning.

The next thing he noticed was that Lance seemed to have a collection of shorts on the shorter side of things, though the dark blue ones he was wearing today weren’t nearly as tiny as the ones he’d been wearing before. They were wet, plastered to his skin as was his pale-blue t-shirt, and when he bent down to scoop up to thrown sponge Shiro could see the fabric pulling tight over his thighs and ass. His shirt was nearly sheer from the water, letting Shiro see the outline of his muscles and, when he was facing them the dark outline of his hardened nipples.

His tail had lost it’s ‘fluff’, fur matted and dripping from where it was stuck against his leg. His hair and ears were wet as well; he swiped his hair out of his face as he moved to the front of a smaller car. He bent over the hood, lips moving as he said something to a mousegirl with lime green hair. The girl grinned coyly, eyelashes fluttering, and nodded in agreement to whatever Lance was saying. He laughed again then turned to focus on the car; the girl tilted her head to the side, expression melting into an appreciative one.

Shiro frowned at her, annoyance and something he didn’t want to put a name to sparking in his chest.

“What is Lance doing out here?”

Pidge coughed, eyes sliding to the side. “I called him out when Matt went to grab something to eat? Lance is good with the customers. Really good.”  

“Is Hunk by himself?” Keith asked. When Pidge nodded he scowled darkly; his small rounded, reddish brown ears twitching in irritation. “Lance!”

Lance jumped, ears flattening against his head in alarm, then whirled around to face them. His eyes landed on Keith first and immediately he looked annoyed but then his gaze flicked over to Shiro. Lance’s expressions were painfully readable; surprise, confusion, something achingly hopeful, and wariness all flickered over his face in rapid succession. He dropped his sponge and beelined for them.

“Yeah?”

“Change and get back inside.” Keith said tersely. “Before those people eat Hunk alive.”

“Yeah,” Pidge added, smirking. “You know that’s Keith’s job.”

Lance laughed and Keith went red up to the tips of his ears. He turned to snap at Pidge, who just smirked wider, the picture of unapologetic glee. Shiro filed it away for later and turned his attention to Lance. He was reaching under the table for something and, after a moment of rummaging around, emerged with a duffle bag. He straightened up then, looked over at Shiro.

“You uh, coming in? First brownie is on me.” He looked uncharacteristically nervous, eyes not quite meeting Shiro’s, as if he expected him to say no.

Shiro nodded; Lance smiled faintly then, with waves to the others washing the cars, started towards the school. The gym doors were propped open and, inside, Shiro could see there were a few different tables set up for different clubs doing their summer fundraisers. It had been the same when he was in school, a lot of the smaller clubs teamed up to have enough people to spread out over things.

Shiro could just see Hunk, surrounded by a crowd and looking increasingly frantic as he scrambled to keep up as more and more people started to crowd around him. .

Lance showed no sign of heading there and, instead, went towards the bathrooms. Shiro followed him, shaking his head and shrugging at the desperate look Hunk threw in their direction.

“I didn’t expect to see you today.” Lance said, voice pitched low even though the gym was full of people and noise so it was doubtful anyone would overhear. “You didn’t look all that happy with me earlier so I’m assuming it wasn’t that I’m irresistible that made you come.”

Shiro sighed, reaching up to rub at the short hairs on the back of his neck. “Yeah. I wanted to talk about that.”

Lance put a hand on the bathroom door, eyes narrowed as he looked Shiro over, then shrugged. “Okay. I can talk.”

Before Shiro could start, or suggest that this wasn’t the place, Lance was pushing open the door to the bathroom and holding it open while making a ‘go ahead’ gesture. Shiro took a moment to consider that it was probably better to wait before walking past Lance into the bathroom. It was empty, both of the stalls wide open. Lance brushed past him to step into one, but didn’t bother shutting the door, though he did turn so his back was to Shiro..

Shiro hesitated for as long as it took Lance to pull of his shirt and let it fall to the ground with a wet squish then hurried turned around and stared hard at the door. Lance let out a small huff of laughter before speaking again.

“I’m sorry. About kissing you. I shouldn’t have.”

Shiro shook his head head then, remembering Lance was facing the other direction, spoke. “No, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Lance sounded confused; Shiro could perfectly picture his wrinkled nose and furrowed brows as well as the way his ears would flick around as he tilted his head to the side. “For what?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter I might open up votes here as well as accept ones from tumblr. We'll see.


End file.
